The Community G Ma

Every community has one. The woman who cannot walk past a group of children without stopping to talk to them. The one who somehow always has craft supplies at home, just in case. In my community, that woman is me. My grandsons started calling me G Ma years ago. Now half the children here have picked it up too, and I have happily accepted the title.

I am 62, and by most definitions, that makes me a boomer. But I am not the boomer who struggles with technology. I shop online for everything, from a Mac to furniture on Amazon. Still, the moment a child walks into the room, something in me shifts. I forget I am 62. I become a child myself, all over again.

It Started With a Festive Excuse

I never need much of a reason to gather children together. A festive occasion, a table full of supplies and a few eager little faces are enough for me. Over the past year, I have organised activities at home for Christmas, Republic Day and Independence Day. Each celebration looked different, but they all had the same energy. There was excitement, endless chatter and children who could not wait to get their hands busy.

And yes, I probably enjoyed myself just as much as they did.

Fruit Became Christmas Magic

For Christmas, I wanted the children to make something they could actually eat. So we turned bananas, strawberries and grapes into little Christmas characters. Three slices of banana became the body of a snowman. A strawberry became his hat, and chocolate chips gave him eyes and buttons. Suddenly, a few pieces of fruit had a personality of their own.

The children loved putting him together. Naturally, they loved eating him even more. We made a second skewer too, and watching them turn ordinary fruit into something delightful reminded me why I keep doing this. Give children a few simple things, and their imagination does the rest.

Republic Day Brought Quiet Pride

For Republic Day, I wanted the children to make something they could wear. So we made tricolour badges, and I did not prepare anything beforehand. The children built their badges from scratch, arranging saffron, white and green with the Ashoka Chakra at the centre. There was cutting, sticking and plenty of rearranging.

Once the badges were ready, they wore them with visible pride. It was such a simple activity. Yet seeing them walk around in their handmade badges made my whole afternoon.

Independence Day Called for More

By Independence Day, I was ready for something bigger. We made tricolour caps, and each child decorated their own until no two looked alike. The moment the caps were ready, they went straight onto little heads. Why wait for anything?

Then came the food. Orange, banana and green grapes became our saffron, white and green fruit skewers, along with popcorn for everyone. We finished with milkshakes, which the children declared the best surprise of the day.

The Real Moment Came at the End

Crafts and snacks were lovely, but my favourite part was something else. The children gathered together, saluted and shouted “Jai Hind.” Then came “Vande Mataram,” sung with full hearts and louder voices. There was no hesitation and no self-consciousness. Just bright faces and pure energy.

That, for me, was the real celebration.

Why I Never Say No to This

People assume children’s activities need to be elaborate to matter. I disagree. Children can have just as much fun with fruit and paper as they can with an expensive kit. What they need is the chance to make, explore and belong to something.

One child follows the plan carefully. Another does something entirely different. Someone asks for help, while someone else insists on doing it alone. There is always one child more interested in eating the supplies than making the craft. I love every bit of it.

The G Ma Behind the Crafts

I have carried a loss no parent should ever have to carry. There are no words that make it smaller, and I will not pretend otherwise. But grief does not get to decide everything. We are still here, and being here means we owe ourselves a life worth living.

I was always drawn to children, long before this happened to me. But losing what I lost has pulled me toward them with a force I cannot fully explain. Maybe it is instinct. Maybe it is healing. So when my home fills with children’s voices, questions and laughter, something in me comes alive again. For those few hours, there is colour everywhere, no shortage of noise, and no room left for loneliness.

You Do Not Need Much to Create Magic

If you want to try this in your own community, start simple. Pick an occasion. Choose materials that little hands can manage easily. Then step back and let the children take over.

Do not worry if the craft turns out imperfect. Do not worry if the fruit disappears before the photograph is taken. Sometimes the children abandon your plan entirely and invent their own. That is usually when the best memories happen.

The Memories Stay Long After

When I think back on these occasions, I do not really remember the paper, fruit or caps. The children are what stay with me instead.

Their concentration while building tiny Christmas creations still makes me smile. The pride on their faces as they wore their Republic Day badges is hard to forget. And then there was the laughter, the colourful caps, and those little voices shouting “Jai Hind.”

I may be the community’s G Ma on paper. But every time I sit down with a group of children, I am simply one of them again.

Little hands make wonderful things. But little hearts, mine included, make the most beautiful memories.

This post is part of Blogchatter’s Half Marathon.